


though i left my heart to stray

by Lauren (notalwaysweak)



Series: Meet You on the Sly [1]
Category: The Big Bang Theory (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, M/M, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 11:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/pseuds/Lauren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raj picks up a companion for the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	though i left my heart to stray

**Author's Note:**

> This is either an AU or a roleplay scenario and I still haven't decided which, so tagged it with both, and you can decide for yourself which you prefer. (As such, however, it doesn't fit in with any of my established S/R 'verses. Unless it does...)
> 
> Betaed by afullmargin, with thanks. (Also inspired by her because of reasons.)
> 
> TBBT characters do not belong to me and I am not making any money off this work of fan fiction.
> 
> * * *

Raj feels as nervous as hell crawling the curb, certain that he’s standing out like a sore thumb even though this stretch of the street seems particularly busy tonight. The people of the night line the pavement; the cars cruise them in a slow endless parade. On the other hand, they’re not far from the Colorado and it looks like some of the clientele have spilled out of the dive onto the street.

A few of the women take hopeful steps toward him and then, when he passes them by, a couple of the men, but he’s looking for someone in particular. Neither short skirts nor bare muscular chests are the draw he’s after tonight.

Just when he’s wondering if this isn’t his night after all, he spots the slim figure standing in the shadows. His head is down, his hands are tucked into his jeans pockets, and the black leather jacket that he’s wearing clings so enticingly to his upper body that its threadbare nature is irrelevant.

Raj stops the car and rolls the window down. “Hey.” He pitches his voice low but to carry. “You busy?”

His would-be companion pushes off the wall and steps into the pool of light cast by the nearest streetlamp. “I’m available for you.” He offers Raj a shy smile; Raj is already smiling back. It would be impossible not to smile at that puppydog face, so eager to please.

The other men and women look a little disgruntled as Raj leans over to open the door for his boy. Probably because “boy” is a complete misnomer; he’s older than Raj by maybe eight years at a guess. But Raj doesn’t yet know his name; only that he often has his fingers stained with ink like a schoolboy.

He’s not flashy or fleshy or any of the usual things; Raj thinks that’s why he picked him.

There’s no kissing, but Raj squeezes his companion’s knee once he’s settled and is rewarded with another shy smile. The car pulls away from the curb.

“My place okay?” Raj asks.

“That’s fine.” His voice is barely audible.

Raj doesn’t break the speed limit going home, but it’s a close thing.

* * *

They stand in his living room, Raj feeling awkward in his multiple layers, especially when accompanied by someone who looks so casually comfortable. He shifts from foot to foot and his companion notices and touches his cheek.

“You look so nervous. It’s not like we haven’t done this before.”

“I was afraid someone else would get to you first,” Raj admits.

This garners him a sympathetic, somewhat wry smile. “Didn’t you realize I was waiting for you?”

Raj lets out a despairing sound and claws at his sweater, yanking it up and off over his head, feeling his hands joined by others that are gentle but eager. Once he’s out of the sweater and shirt and undershirt, those pale hands land on his dark chest and, looking down, he sees that the fingertips are indeed stained once again with ink.

“What do you do to get so dirty?” The question is out of his mouth before he can think how best to word it.

For that he gets an eyebrow raise. “It helps pay the bills.”

“I meant your hands, not your... job.”

HIs companion leans in and his lips brush against Raj’s earlobe. “I can get a lot dirtier.”

Raj’s breathing is ragged. “Show me.”

Those teasing hands make quick work of his zipper and Raj closes his eyes for a second as his companion goes to his knees in front of him. He has just enough time to sigh with relief as his cock is freed from the confines of his pants before he’s gasping as his cock is swallowed whole.

“Oh, Krishna...” He gropes blindly behind himself and grips the back of the couch. This is more intense than before and Raj has to wonder if his ink-stained schoolboy has been learning from someone else. The thought makes him shiver; someone else stretching that delicate mouth wide and plunging in, someone else tracing the fine arrow of hair that leads the way down into those tight jeans, someone else wrapping their hand around the slim hard length hiding in the aforementioned tight jeans.

“Wait. Stop.” He’s verging on coming already. His companion lets Raj’s length slip from his mouth and looks up at him expectantly. “We should go in the bedroom.”

“Snuggling’s extra.” He can feel the soft breath of laughter ghosting over his cock.

“Come on.” He kicks his pants right off and walks bareass naked toward the bedroom, knowing that he’ll be followed.

* * *

It should be weird, being stripped off completely while his companion is still fully dressed. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? He voices this thought and gets a laugh.

“You only have to ask for what you want.”

“You. I want you.” Raj reaches for the zipper of the leather jacket and yanks it down rough and fast. “Take that off.” His companion acquiesces, stripping the black leather down his arms to reveal a plain white t-shirt, tight enough to show off all the muscle definition that he doesn’t have.

“I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with me.”

“I’m not obsessed.” Raj leans in and is stopped with a finger to his lips. “I just -- you’re different to the others.”

His companion’s smile is sad. “And I suppose you’re going to be the one to take me away from this debauched lifestyle?”

“I--”

The t-shirt hits the floor, followed in short order by the worn blue denim jeans. No underwear, and they both already shed their shoes and socks in the living room. Raj does not feel like being equally naked puts them on equal terms.

“Don’t make this about feelings,” says his companion, giving him a disturbingly frank look with those deep brown eyes. “Come on.” And he pulls Raj toward the bed, not by the hand.

They tumble together on the swiftly rumpled bed. Before long Raj is on his back, his cock being worked by that pretty mouth, one slender hand stroking the shaft, the other teasing his balls and dipping down between his thighs. It’s too much and not enough and he wants something more but doesn’t know how to ask.

“Hey... come up here.”

“Don’t tell me, I’m not good enough.” The look of self-loathing on the other man’s face is enough to make Raj want to cuddle him forever, and hang the expense.

“Trust me, you’re more than good enough. I just want...” Raj waits until his companion is settled beside him, kissing distance away -- if they ever kissed. He shifts closer until their cocks are pressed tight against each other, and the way that his companion’s face goes soft with pleasure when Raj’s hand closes around both of them makes the uncertain words worth it.

“I’m supposed to be doing that for you.”

“It’s my dime, you’ll do whatever I want you to do.”

He feels the shudder run through the other man and those gorgeous brown eyes slip closed in defeat. “Oh. God.”

“Is it that hard to be asked to enjoy yourself?”

“Baby, you have no idea.”

“Rajesh... my name’s Rajesh. Or Raj.”

“Rajesh.” The syllables are slurred a little with pleasure. “Tell me what you want me to do, then.”

“Just. Feel. Enjoy.” Raj’s hand is slick with precome and he can’t tell if it’s all his or not. He drapes his free arm over his companion’s waist and pulls him close until their bodies are pressed together from chest to toe. “Open your eyes.” They make it to half-lidded, and if he can judge based upon the soft breathy sighs and the way that the body against his relaxes into him at last, then this is no feigned desire to please a client.

“How come your hands always have ink on them?”

“I. Uh. I draw.” He inhales a slow shuddering breath. “Portraits, mostly.”

“Put your hand over mine,” Raj whispers, and their fingers intertwine, and it’s not the most comfortable way to jerk off but comfort’s not uppermost in his mind at the moment. When his companion’s eyes threaten to drift closed again he shakes his head minutely and their gazes meet and lock.

“Don’t make this into something it isn’t.”

“Damn it.” It’s Raj’s turn to close his eyes. He’s starting to flag. “Can’t you at least pretend you’re into me for ten minutes? Two would do.”

“Promise you’re not trying to save me from myself.” Their hands have faltered.

“I -- all right.”

The resumption of the rhythm takes some moments and Raj is inwardly cursing himself, but his companion is patient and works him with a steady hand, only pressing their cocks back together when Raj is all the way hard again. He murmurs a stream of probably rehearsed endearments and curses, his lips so close to Raj’s ear. It’s a long step away from the shy boy Raj is accustomed to being with, the one who begs to be touched when he’s not just giving Raj silent pleading looks.

“What happened?” he blurts. “What changed?”

“No saving me,” his companion gently admonishes him, and as if to terminate that line of conversation completely he slides down the bed and swallows Raj whole and this time there’s no stopping and no quarter given, to the point where Raj wonders for a second right before he comes just which of them is in charge here.

* * *

“Now you have to come.”

“I don’t have to do anything except collect my money and leave, Rajesh.”

“What if I said I wanted to watch you do it? Get yourself off?”

“Do you really?”

“Yes.”

“...”

“Please?”

“Move over.”

“Look at you. God, look at you.”

“Ffff-uck.”

“Can I touch you?”

“That’s what you’re paying me for.”

“Seriously, let me--”

“Oh. Oh, God. Please. Please, Rajesh.”

“Please what?”

“Stop fucking around and just d--”

“Mmmm.”

* * *

Raj wakes up at three in the morning. It’s still dark out, save for the streetlamps splashing the walls with pale light that’s mostly shadows.

He’s not alone in the bed. His companion of the night before is still there, lying with eyes open, regarding him with the old familiar shyness that he recalls from the beginning of this -- this -- whatever it is. Dalliance? Maybe.

“You know, a lot of guys don’t even ask for kissing.” His voice is blurred in the dark. “They’re too worried they know where my mouth has been.”

Raj shrugs and rolls onto his side to face his bed partner. “I was thinking about you with other guys before,” he admits.

“Threesomes can be arranged, but it’ll cost you.” That bitter laughing tone is back in his voice.

“I don’t -- that’s not what I meant. I -- I don’t like the idea of sharing you. Besides, I’m already up for extra, with the snuggling.” Raj slips his arm around his companion’s shoulders, and is certain he does not imagine the other man rolling closer.

“Get used to it then, because unless you want me to move in here with you and cover my food and other stuff, I’ve got to keep turning tricks. Also, that shouldn’t happen either, because that would be creepy.”

“I’m really not trying to save you,” says Raj, in what is probably the biggest lie of his life. “I just get jealous.”

“That I can understand.” Soft lips press to his temple. “Now get some sleep. It’s late and you probably need to get up in the morning and shower the smell of rent boy off yourself before work.”

Raj splutters. “Rent boy?” Partly it’s ridiculous and partly there’s that damn diminutive again.

“I don’t like ‘gigolo’, I’m not fancy enough to be an ‘escort’, and right about there is where I run out of labels that aren’t just female hooker terminology with ‘male-’ slapped on the front.”

“I see your point.”

A glimmer of white smile flashes in the darkness. “You did that earlier.”

Raj lets out a groan and drops back against the pillows, his bed partner’s laughter drifting him back to sleep.

He doesn’t quite reach it, though, before he feels the soft bold touch of the other man’s mouth on his. They never kiss but this is definitely a kiss, even if he’s too asleep to appreciate it.

Then he hears the whisper, not quite deadened by the dark:

“My name is Stuart, and... maybe a little saving wouldn’t hurt.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, of course the repeated use of the word 'companion' is a _Firefly_ reference.
> 
> I actually felt guiltier about posting this than I did the Coopercest, just FYI. I'm sure I'll get over it, though.


End file.
